So, September the third at around 7.30am there is a knock on our bedroom door. I’m disoriented, there may or may not be a small amount of drool on my chin (there was….I can’t lie!) and I’m pretty sure my alarm isn’t due to go off for at least another hour or so. I turn to Mr Crafty who is snoring away quite sweetly and give him a little (big) poke in the ribs. “Oh, you’re awake,” I say in a demure and innocent voice. “Did you hear that?” I ask him. He, like me, has a hairdo that can only be described as the ‘before’ in a make-over challenge, slightly tussled with that ‘dragged through a bush backwards’ charm. He says “Hear what?” before turning over and starting to rumble again. I’m obviously going mad.
7.43am, another knock, this time harder with an air of impatience. “Muuuuuuuum!!!” I hear from the hallway. “I need dinner money, my bus pass has expired and I have no idea where my blazer is!” Followed by a stomping down the stairs. And then it hits me. It’s the first day back at school! Now, I ‘m not the best person in the morning – my usual regime consists of a bit of grunting before my first coffee, a bit more grunting during said coffee and finally, a grunt of acceptance that the day has begun after my coffee. On this day however, I flew out of bed like a helium balloon from under a magicians cloak!
Now don’t get me wrong, the summer holidays have been great – we had a lovely holiday down in Longleat Centre Parcs, we had days out bowling, eating ice-creams and going on bike rides. We visited relatives and friends, we even had a marvellous family party where I am proud to say all the kids were absolute gems (we weren’t sure they were ours at one point they were so good. Confirmation only came after checking the name tags sewn into their undies!! (Just Kidding!)) BUT!!! And here’s the thing. For 39 out of the 52 weeks in the year my name is Lou. For the other 13 weeks it’s ‘Muuuuuuuum!!!’
I love being a mum, I want to make that very clear – time with the kids is quality and limited and sometimes it’s REALLY HARD! In our house, we have two 13year olds and an 11year old. The two older ones have already mastered that teenage snark, the eyeroll that can be heard all over the house and the inability to walk without the whole house shaking. The younger one has just started high school this term so he has all that upheaval to deal, being separated from friends of old, making new ones, getting used to travelling on the bus alone and carving his own space into the high school without annoying his brother. They all are dealing with challenges, changes and hormones and so are we. We’ve never had three highschool aged children before, so we are adjusting as much as they are.
So on September the third at around 7.50am, when dinner money had been dispensed, blazers found, bus tickets renewed and the stomping had moved on to the nearest bus stop, I climbed back into bed. But today was day one of my 39 weeks of being me. I had big plans. I was looking forward to getting back into the workshop, I was excited to start on new projects, and most of all, I was happy to be just ‘Lou’ again for a while. At 8.00am the alarm went off. As I was about to roll out of bed again, I felt an arm snake around my waist and the covers were pulled up, engulfing me in a pocket of warm. I settled back down and snuggled right in. Work wasn’t going anywhere, it would still be waiting for me when I got back to the workshop. I might as well enjoy this last lie-in before heading back to the coalface!
Keep Crafty Folks,
Love Cat xx
P.s After my morning of pure laziness, I did go back to work! Check out what’s new at the Crafty Cottage by clicking the link to browse our Facebook for more details!